


PJO Shorts

by Mudlark



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: A little of everything idk, Drama, F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Random & Short, Romance, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:28:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25881358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mudlark/pseuds/Mudlark
Summary: Just a collection of interesting story ideas I have about the PJO universe. Will probably feature a lot of the classic cast and OC's. I'm always open to suggestions for pairings, too, so shoot me a DM if you have any ideas (SFW only, please)!
Relationships: Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson, Hazel Levesque/Frank Zhang, Jason Grace/Piper McLean, Katie Gardner/Travis Stoll, Nico di Angelo/Will Solace
Kudos: 5
Collections: Percy Jackson Fics





	PJO Shorts

The first time I saw what the Greeks were capable of was during the weekly insomniacs meeting in the Aoede theater. It was only my fourth time attending, but I’d gotten to know the regulars. There was Marie, a tall woman with curled black hair and deep, tired eyes. She always attended with her wife, who showed support by rubbing her shoulders slowly as Marie nodded off from sleep magic. Dr. Gomez was there, too, leaning so far in his chair I thought he’d topple over. In total, there were just under twenty of us that night—a sleepless brigade of night owls waiting for Henry to show up.

Henry is a member of the third cohort, and one of the only descendants of Somnus in all of Camp Jupiter. He’s also one of the buffest dudes I’ve ever met, so watching him walk in with a pint-sized graecus was almost comical. They were chatting about archery or something and laughing loosely. The girl carried a worn guitar case that she hugged against her bright orange Camp Half-Blood sweatshirt. We recognized her as one of the transfer campers in the Greek/Roman exchange program that Lupa and Chiron arranged nearly a year ago.

See, every three months, both sides send a handful of their campers to do the whole “walk a mile in their shoes” thing. Greeks get to come here and experience mind-numbing legionnaire drills while the Romans get to enjoy underwater basket weaving, or whatever it is they do on Long Island.

The girl had thick glasses that somehow stayed on her tiny pebble of a nose. A crescent moon of acne scars curled from her forehead to her chin. She wore a bright smile as she waved at the small crowd. We waved back politely. Henry planted a beefy hand on her shoulder, smiling like a fisherman posing with an impressive catch.

“Guys,” he said, “I’d like to introduce you to Kayla. She’s from the Apollo cabin at Camp Half-Blood. She’s new here.”

“As of yesterday,” Kayla added, smiling sheepishly. “I’ve already gotten lost twice. This place is enormous.”

Soft laughter echoed throughout the crowd as we were briefly being flung back to the day we first set foot in New Rome, daunted by its enormous size. Frankly, I was impressed it had only been twice at this point.

“Kayla was kind enough to volunteer her help for tonight’s session,” Henry said.

We all nodded, even though we didn’t know what that meant. Apollo’s children—the ones from Camp Jupiter, at least—were only known for gifts of prophecy and occasionally turning themselves into human flashlights. But heavy-duty sleep aid? That had to be a first. Normally, these sessions started with Henry quieting everyone down, a big hush so he could concentrate on his magic. Using it on a crowd this big sapped the hell out of him. It wasn’t unusual for him to get a bit woozy by the end of a session, especially after a full day of training and war games. But Kayla just plopped herself down on a stool and whipped out her guitar, plucking a few strings to make sure everything sounded alright.

The effects were immediate, rolling through the crowd like a wave. Eyelids began to droop. Gross pools of drool formed under our tongues and were discretely swallowed. With only a few experimental notes, a drowsy melancholy formed in my brain. I could feel the intention behind those chords, leading me into a dreamy haze.

Kayla cleared her throat.

“I’ll give it my best shot, but I really wish some of the Morpheus kids were here. Their lullabies are way stronger than mine.”

Henry shook his head, already struggling to stay awake. “Hm? Oh, you’ll do fine.”

And with that, she began to sing.

Kalya’s words were warm butter on toast, blossom petals floating down a gentle stream, a promising spring breeze that starts to thaw a harsh winter. If Henry’s session was like taking melatonin, Kayla’s was like getting hit with a horse tranquilizer. It was so completely overwhelming that I nearly fell out of my chair.  
The lyrics to her song were gorgeous. She sang of a pair of lovers in a classic Romeo and Juliet situation—families that hated each other and would never see them together. So, the two went out to their favorite field and buried themselves with a bag of seeds, hoping that the garden that grew around them would provide a peaceful place for either side to visit. I think I cried, but I can’t say for sure. It’s hard for me to remember that moment clearly, but whenever I think back to it, I want to curl up on the nearest bed or couch and zonk out. Those words still float in the back of my head, beckoning dreams to surface.

By the time Kayla was finished, over half the group had passed out. Even Marie’s wife, the only non-insomniac in the group, was slouched over two chairs, snoring away. Henry was a ball on the floor, thumb secured between his lips. Kayla looked up from her guitar and flew from the chair, spouting apologies as she shook some of us awake. She tried to ask us if we were alright, but we were too awestruck to provide an answer.

Even as I close my eyes now, I can’t help but wonder if we could have won against the Greeks during our standoff last year. I remember the mood as we marched toward their battlements—grim confidence that victory was on our side. We had every advantage; ballista, catapults, winged cavalry, overwhelming numbers. The Greeks barely had enough people to scrape together a cohort’s worth of soldiers, and even then, they were horribly outgunned and disorganized.

But now? I understand why Gaea wanted both sides to fight. We would have wiped each other out. I can’t think of a demigod we have besides the higher-ups that would have stood a chance against a voice like Kayla’s, and she wasn’t even trying then. Hades, sleep magic wasn’t even her specialty and it still knocked almost 20 of us out cold. The Greeks never needed a cohort to compete with us.

I try not to think about it too much, but just like the words of Kayla’s song, the question echoes in the back of my mind every so often. I’m not sure Camp Jupiter knows how close it came to total annihilation that day, and I hope we never have to see a war like that again. But for now, I let those magic words lull me to sleep, joining the rest of the cohort as we drift off in our own dreams.

**Author's Note:**

> AN: This is my first story I've posted in a loooong time, but I love the world of Percy Jackson too much not to write something.
> 
> I've always had it in my head that while the Romans had superior military force, the Greeks would have a stronger connection to their godly powers. I don't really know where it came from, but it seemed like something fun to play with. Hopefully, this will turn into a string of short stories set in the PJO universe, but for now, it's just this one.
> 
> I'm also looking for a beta writer to toss ideas around. I don't feel terribly confident that this story is saying what I want it to, and I probably have a ton of grammatical errors despite how many times I've read it over. Having a fresh pair of eyes on it would be nice.
> 
> I'm also curious to see what people thought about the piece. Feel free to criticize and suggest things in the comments or in my DM's.
> 
> Cheers!


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